Get Your Leg Off Me
by Salome Sensei
Summary: A series of naughty SamCham ficlets. Most humorous, a few dark. Jin/Mugen but Jin/Mugen/Fuu too. Adults only, please.
1. Get Your Leg Off of Me

Author's Note: A first crack at Jin/Mugen. Tame but leading into temptation...

Get Your Leg Off of Me

Mugen stretched, and let his legs spread and sprawl on the rocky dirt floor of the stable. He was so tired there was no question of not falling asleep, but a cushion or a blanket would have been nice. Hell, he even envied the horses their hay. Stupid animals weren't even lying down in it. They were, however, shitting in it, he discovered upon grabbing an armful of it and quickly opting to throw it back down. He yawned, sighed. Fuu would make a nice cushion, even if she was flat as a board. But she had figured out his plan as he inched toward her as the night wore on, and was now sleeping in the stall with the mule. "He smells better than you!" was her parting remark.

"Get your leg off of me," Jin said in that deep, quiet, toneless voice that never varied, whether he was ordering soup, issuing a challenge, or commenting on the weather. And the last of these, along with any other kind of normal human banter, of course, he never did. The man held words like they were made of coin. A miser in every fucking way. Mugen moved his leg. The jerk was even bonier than Fuu anyway.

Even after Jin rolled away onto his side, his breathing calm and even, Mugen was riled. Though he was the one who started up, the arrogant bastard's uptight response felt like a dare. And Mugen never could resist a dare. His heart raced, and he wouldn't get back to sleep if he didn't let out a little energy. He scooched over behind Jin and felt his cock jump, hard like it always was when he was annoyed. It certainly wasn't hard for Jin. "Hey, why don't you stop pretending you're asleep and suck me off," he whispered into the samurai's ear.

Jin's face flushed in the darkness and he turned, whirled into a crouch and had his sword unsheathed and aimed at his companion's throat in the blink of an eye. Mugen was ready, having grabbed his own sword the moment Jin moved to block his advance.

Mugen smiled into Jin's eyes, triumphant. So easy to find a weak spot on a guy like him. "Let's get it on," he said, licking his lips and rising. They'd both sleep better for a good fight.

"Hey you idiots!" snapped Fuu. "Remember your promise—and let me get some sleep!"

Mugen's smile wilted and the glimmer went out of Jin's eyes. They both shrugged, put down their weapons, and lay down in the dirt. "Tightass," Mugen scoffed. Jin didn't reply.


	2. A 5yrold Girl Could Drink More Than You

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "One Wild Night."

A Five-year-old Girl Could Drink More Than You

"You can't hold your liquor," spit Mugen, smirking drunkenly and pointing a finger into Jin's face. They slumped, side by side, the table before them strewn with bowls, platters, and a dozen sake jars—all but one empty now.

Fuu excused herself, not because she couldn't keep up with Mugen's drinking challenge after their expansive if somewhat bland meal but because she had to relieve herself. As she rose on shaky legs and stumbled out to the back, Jin raised his eyes. He blinked at Fuu's wobbly pink-clad form, then shut his eyes again with a groan.

Mugen grumbled as he knocked back another cup of cheap sake then slammed his cup down on the table and elbowed Jin hard. They were alone in the little establishment, and Mugen had dumped ample coin on the table to ensure they'd not be bothered by the proprietors once their feast arrived. They'd been lucky that day, having encountered an inept but wealthy challenger who'd sought to rob Jin of his swords through posturing and claims of grandeur that turned out to be less than empty threats. The fool had ended up happy to escape with his life, dressed only in his fundoshi but his head still on his shoulders. His costly garments were then easily pawned for the night's excesses.

"A five-year-old girl could drink more than you," Mugen snorted, bored and sick of Jin's lack of response to his taunting.

Jin's drooping head popped up again, his glasses low on his nose and his eyes heavy-lidded. His hand shifted to his hip, where he easily found the hilt of his sword—much more easily than he could unfold his legs and rise. Toppling backwards, seemingly in slow motion, his antics brought forth a hearty guffaw from his companion. So hearty, in fact, that Mugen soon also found himself sprawled on the dirty floor, his forehead knocking into Jin's.

The owner, who had peeked out from behind a curtained flap to the kitchen, ducked his head back inside as the two began to scuffle. There wasn't much they could ruin, he thought with a shrug, and once they passed out he'd simply take the rest of their coin and toss them into the deserted street of the sleepy town. The girl was already nearly unconscious in the outhouse.

Mugen's arms flailing and Jin struggling to get the hell out of reach, the pair cursed blue streaks at each other. Mugen slandered Jin's lame expletives and girly fingernails, while Jin roundly declaimed Mugen's filthy hair, grotesque manners, and ungodly body odor. Then, as is so often the case, words became deeds, and Mugen was pulling Jin's hair while Jin was ineffectually laboring to land kicks to Mugen's groin.

How, exactly, this desperate brawl became deep, grunting kisses with blind groping (from Mugen) and dry humping (for Jin) must be left one of the mysteries of the universe.

Suffice it to say, the worst of times are always the best of times when looked upon from another angle, and the angle from which Fuu observed the floundering clench after emptying her bladder (and, with some suddenness, her stomach) left her unable to decide whether she looked upon reality or fantasy, happy dream or freakish nightmare.


	3. What Are U Doing Down There, U Cretin

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Vampire Loving."

What Are You Doing Down There, You Cretin?

"Mugen," Jin snapped. There was no response. "Mugen," a bit more urgently. The samurai would not flinch, and he would not raise his voice. "What are you doing down there, you cretin?" There. He'd name-called, but he hadn't moved away from the pain and he hadn't raised his voice. And the creature at last sat up.

Glaring defiantly, Mugen faced his accuser then turned to spit. Drawing his sleeve across his mouth, he wiped away the blood. "Look, asshole, either you want me to get the poison outta that wound, or you don't. I could care less whether you die of snakebite, you stupid prick." A lopsided grin formed and he poked his finger in Jin's pale face. "Only reason I'm doing this is 'cause I'm not gonna sit by and watch Fuu play nurse while you milk it for all the attention you can get."

Jin did not grant his companion any reaction whatsoever. The slender viper had bitten him as he slept by the campfire, on the back of his thigh. True, it was not easy to clean a wound in such a place, but he'd had no opportunity, being overwhelmed by Mugen's special brand of mania. Jin had watched as Mugen skewered and waved the viper aloft, dancing in triumph, while Fuu screamed then obeyed Mugen's command to fetch water from the nearby stream to clean it. Water was unnecessary, Jin had noted calmly, feeling the little punctures begin to throb. Mugen had smiled and said they didn't need a hysterical woman watching while he did what was necessary.

Now Mugen bent to suck and spit more of the venom from Jin's thigh until he tasted nothing but blood. And then he sucked some more. There was a sweet metallic taste, one he enjoyed, often licking his own cuts and scrapes to soothe them. "Almost done," he muttered, pushing Jin onto his belly and lapping at the now poison-free wound as it bled freely.

Jin opened his mouth to complain again at how long Mugen was taking, but something stopped him. The warm softness of that tongue was surprising, pleasant, startlingly so. Who'd have thought the wild animal of a man could tongue-bathe like a skilled whore? He held his breath, dared not speak.

Mugen grunted, tasting salty flesh as the bleeding slowed a bit. His cock grew hard and his hand, seemingly instinctively, reached beneath Jin and into his hakama to learn whether he, too, was aroused. There was no resistance to his curious fingers, no reaction in sound or movement, but Mugen's hand wrapped a satisfyingly erect shaft as he passed his tongue again and again over the injured thigh.

"I'm back!" Fuu exclaimed, suddenly appearing before them, accompanied by the sound of water sloshing in a little wooden pail she'd somehow managed to scrounge away from any village in the dead of night. "Is he all right?"

Mugen cursed under his breath and leapt to his feet. Damn, the little bitch was fast. "Yeah, he'll be fine," he muttered. Turning away to keep Fuu from seeing his erection, he caught Jin's eyes reflected in the firelight, staring intently. He licked his lips and winked. "Look after him, Fuu. I'm goin' down to the river to cool off."


	4. Like I'm Gonna Try Anything

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "All About the Games You Play."

Like I'm Gonna Try Anything With a Flat Kid Like Her

When she's not around, you love to tell me about what a tease she is, how she plays games with you:

"The wench was half undressed then screamed, like she didn't know I was standing right there!"

"I woke up and her hand was on my thigh! Right next to my dick! When I jumped up, she played innocent, denied knowing how it got there!"

"She says she doesn't feel safe alone with me, can you believe it? Like I'm gonna try anything with a flat kid like her!"

I listen in silence, sharpening my sword, dozing, waiting for you to finish so I can return to meditation. My grunted responses neither acknowledge nor repudiate your complaints. We both know the truth, though, Mugen.

When you're beaten into resistance, pinned beneath me, my cock balls-deep in your ass, you whine like a bitch for the mama you never had. Then, and only then, does the truth comes out of your vagrant, criminal mouth:

"Tear me up, Jin. Make it so I can't even think about fucking that sweet little virgin cunt. I'll wreck her. Don't let me wreck her, Jin. Wreck me instead. Ruin me."

Telling so many lies makes the truth flow like a river when you finally give over control, doesn't it, Mugen? Silently, I listen to your confession, slamming into you, thrusting home until I see sparks behind my eyes and know my own truth as I come: taking you like this is another game, false penance for my own pitiful excuse for a life.

As I pull away from your panting, sweaty body, I wonder when you'll have had enough. I can't help but hold out faint hope that one day you'll turn the tables, and force from me my own hidden truths.


	5. I Can't Wait to Kill Him

Author's Note: Had to try some Mugen POV. Based on the prompt "When the Lights Go Out, the Lovers Play" at Citrus-taste.

I Can't Wait to Kill Him

When Fuu gets enough grub to actually fill that bottomless pit inside her, she sleeps so hard you could drop bricks on her head or toss her in the river and she wouldn't wake up. Those nights are rare, but I love 'em. Those are the nights I fuck Jin.

She's gotta be really conked out 'cause the samurai prick puts up such a fight every damn time. And it's the same routine every time too. First he threatens to kill me when I tell him I'm gonna fuck him. Then we drop our swords and go outside and kick and punch each other 'til we're bruised and cashed. He grumbles that I "cheat" (whatever the fuck that means) to get his wrists tied behind his back and his face shoved into the floor so I can hike his hips up and whip it out and into him before he can get away. But once I'm in? He sighs and gives way like the sweetest pussy you've ever fucked.

Sweeter, 'cause I get to beat the shit out of him first.

Sweet too 'cause he makes these sounds. Better than women make. Low and hungry. He thinks I can't hear him. Idiot. While I'm pounding away, sweating on him and panting like the mongrel dog I am, I find myself wondering if he makes those noises for anyone else. I could kick myself for wondering, and even worse, for hoping he doesn't. Stupid tight-assed samurai. I can't wait to kill him.


	6. Don't Even Think About It

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Shake That Thing."

Don't Even Think About It

Fuu is drunk. Really, really drunk. She's standing on the table at the little sake bar, dancing like the geisha she so obviously is not. Barely showing ankle, let alone anything else. But someone's handed her a fan and she's working it for all she's worth: eyes glittering, mouth a smile of such innocence it's hard not to look away. But I can't. I've never seen her like this, and it brings out the desire—a practically visceral need—to protect her. Protect her from harm. Any harm. Ever.

And, of course, other things.

Mugen is as wild-eyed as she, mouth agape and drooling. It doesn't matter how many times he teases her for her flat-chestedness or her absurdly childlike tantrums. He's got it bad. Doesn't even matter that he fucks me on occasion. We've both got it bad for her incomparable innocence, determination, and love of life. It's impossible not to catch it when you're around her. Like a fever you want to be reinfected with, forever.

My cock's hard and I peer surreptitiously to see Mugen's is too. I can also see that he's thinking he's really gonna do it this time. I'm not. I've got that much brain in my pathetic skull, that much self-control. You don't taint the source of uncontaminated pleasure; you don't spit down the well. Well, I don't. Mugen does. I lean into him. "Don't even think about it," I mutter.

Fuu twirls and flutters that ridiculous paper fan. The bunch of louts around the room are clapping, and she's trying hard to dance to their rhythm. Failing, but trying. She shakes her slender hips and giggles, cheeks flushed.

She counts so entirely on our good will that we find some, somewhere, every time.

Mugen makes a sound of derision at my threat and rubs his crotch. He might really try it this time, I think. Though I've thought that before. "Mugen."

He sighs. "Okay okay. But…"

There's nothing more to say. We know the arrangement. And he's not a bad fuck, after all.


	7. Flatter Than a Katana,,,

Author's Note: More antics with a little taste of Fuu POV. Based on the prompt "Nice and Rough, or Gentle and Tender."

Flatter Than a Katana with a Mind in Constant Need of Sharpening

_Dear Diary,_

_Now that they read my diary once, I know they'll do it again. Instead of trying to teach them another lesson or tease them, I'm hiding it down my kimono. Fat chance they'll find it now. "Flatter than a katana with a mind in constant need of sharpening," Mugen said to Jin the other day. Ha ha._

_So why is it I can't stop thinking about the stupid stinky vagrant! Dreaming things, wishing things. I'm not as stupid as he thinks, that's for sure. I don't fool myself into thinking he'll ever really amount to anything. We're not gonna get married and live happily ever after, running a little tea shop together with a little room in the back with a comfy double-mat and blanket I weave through with flower petals, waking in the morning in each others' arms just happy to be together._

_I know he thinks I think that kind of thing all the time. If he knew the truth? He'd laugh. I don't just like life gentle and tender. With my father abandoning us and dealing with unruly customers' at my aunt and uncle's place? I've seen plenty. And I don't expect people to act contrary to their natures. So while it'd be nice to have my own little shop or something, when I think of Mugen, I think of him giving it to me nice and rough. Tossing me down on a dirt floor and claiming me for his own. Grunting in my ear and filling me up with the lust I'm sure I sometimes see for me in his eyes, when he thinks I'm not looking. "Fuck me, Mugen," I'll whisper, bold and lusty, just like that! I will. Just wait and see, Mugen. One of these days I'm going to--_

Blushing hotly, eyes goggling, Jin slapped the little book closed and shoved it back into Mugen's hands. "I'm not reading another word. I don't know which one of you is worse. Her for writing this and knowing you'd find it, or you making me read it." He rose and headed out of their room…and directly for as cold a bath as he could find.

Mugen gave a plaintive whine. For the first time in his life, he wished he knew how to read.


	8. Take it, You Tightassed Jerk

Author's Note: Fuu POV! Based on the prompt "A Little Quickie Behind the Doors" at Citrus-taste.

Take it, You Tight-assed Jerk

I feel absolutely awful doing this. Too young and too wicked at the same time. I can feel the heat travel up my throat and into my face. I'm sure I'm as red as a camellia in full bloom! It's so hot below too, as my fingers clumsily rub and rub over my kimono, trying to find that place despite the layers of cloth. There's neither time nor privacy enough to hike it above my hips as my body is bucked by the door that keeps banging and banging against me although its closed. It's what's going on against it on the other side that has me in this frantic, shameful state, doing this frantic, shameful deed.

I've done this often, actually, and so have they. Because they have, so many times. I stand on the far side of doors and cloth door hangings, walls of mud and paper, any place where they are doing it in presumed secrecy and I can enjoy their harsh pleasure without being seen or known.

This time is amazing, though, because Mugen actually has Jin pressed up against the door and he's bucking into it, pressing Jin forward and "against" me on the other side. I'm turned away, of course, but when I press my behind back, each slam could be into me. Mugen…taking me…the way he takes Jin. "Take it, you tight-assed jerk," Mugen grunts. I want that, I admit to myself and only myself, and I whisper "Yes, Mugen," from the other side of the solid wooden door that keeps thumping against me.

I'm actually more sore than satisfied when I peak, hard and suddenly, with a muffled squeak, just as I hear them, making those low, terrible sounds of their own climaxes. I imagine Mugen has his hand on Jin's erection as he takes him, and it's almost like we reach ecstasy together. Almost.

Perhaps someday I'll have the bravery to beg to join them. If they'd have me. Once I meet the samurai who smells of sunflowers, once I confront my father. Then maybe I'll have the strength. I hope so.


	9. How About I Do You with My Katana?

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Switching Roles" at Citrus-Taste.

How About I Do You with My Katana?

I hate when he does this shit. A friendless, homeless fool I may be, but I'm not a dim-witted, undisciplined, unwashed pervert. Or, if I am a pervert, at least my proclivities make sense. I like women, a lot, one at a time or preferably two. I am respectful, skilled at giving pleasure, and achieve my gratification in equal measure. I pay properly and tip well when I can, and if I have opportunity for sex without a business arrangement, I am equally courteous and honest about my intentions. When I fuck men, I am perhaps less polite, but I have rarely left a tryst without mutual satisfaction assured.

But this one. This lunatic vagrant. This Mugen. He asks prostitutes to kiss each other while he masturbates like a monkey in the corner. He debates the virtues of various sexual positions as soon as Fuu is out of earshot. He begs me to fuck him, and while I do, he spews abuse—then spews even more if I tell him I'm going to stop if he doesn't shut up.

And right now? Fuu's bathing, and any normal male would be peeking, like I am. But Mugen, he's trying on her kimono and asking me if he's hot as a woman. I suppress my gag reflex and watch Fuu wash her back. (How does she always know where I'll be sitting and keep turned away, I wonder.)

Mugen bends over and flips up the kimono to expose his bony ass. "You wanna do me like a girl?"

"How about I do you with my katana?" I grumble. But the response just makes him grin ferociously. Getting me angry turns him on.

Idiot. I rise and take out my cock. What the hell. It's not as if I'm going to get a better offer tonight.


	10. Stop Looking Up Her Kimono

Author's Note: This fic is inspired by a Japanese folktale about a little girl and the toothpicks she leaves lying on her floor. A version can be found at: w w w . jappannippon . c o m (slash) fairytales (slash) toothpick . htm . I have NO idea if this is a bona fide Japanese tale or not, but it inspired me. It's also, like the others, based on prompt "My Fairytale."

Stop Looking Up Her Kimono

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Fuu. Her favorite pastime was eating. From rice to noodles and from pork to eel, she would eat as much as her slender body could hold when given opportunity. Sometimes she would gobble down so much that she would expand, ballooning to twice her size so that one could not be sure if it was really Fuu anymore at all. On more than one occasion her appetite allowed her to escape harm by not being recognized.

Because of her love for food, Fuu also developed a love of toothpicks. She always carried a supply of the tiny wooden sticks, and could often be found secretly picking her teeth for the bits of fish or rice stuck there. And this led to a further habit: when Fuu finished her meal and finished her picking, she would drop the tiny slivers of wood onto the floor beside her sleeping mat.

One night, she awoke to the sound of two wee voices, uttering tiny battle cries. She looked around the moonlit room until at last she saw the source: two miniscule warriors were fighting each other with her toothpicks.

"Ignorant vagrant! Stop looking up her kimono, Mugen!" said the first miniature warrior.

"Uptight virgin!" cried the second. "Whose to say she wouldn't like it?"

Fuu's mouth dropped open at the sight and sound of their carrying on. What on earth were they talking about? Would they hurt one another? Would they hurt her? She leaned down and plucked the little toothpicks from their hands at once. "Stop it!" she cried.

Both little warriors stared up at the giant girl. The second one bowed and assured her he was only defending her honor while the first one snickered his tiny high snicker.

Fuu yawned, for it was the middle of the night, and put the toothpicks carefully under her sleeping mat. When she turned back, the little men were gone. She rubbed her eyes. Perhaps she had dreamed them. Sleeping on a big meal sometimes brought strange dreams, to be sure. With a shake of her pretty head, she lay back down and returned to her slumber.

As she slept, however, the little warriors returned to her side.

"C'mon, Jin, ya wimp. I'm goin' in," the first one said, "and you ain't got the balls—or the toothpick—to stop me!"

The second one rolled his teensy eyes heavenward. "Oh all right, you damn pervert. You're not getting any if I don't."

And with that, they both slipped in side her kimono and gave Fuu such beautiful and stimulating dreams that by morning she forgot all about the little toothpick-wielding warriors and began to ponder the appeal of more grown-up pastimes than eating rice and picking her teeth.


	11. Don't Pass Out

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Memories of Love" at Citrus-Taste.

Don't Pass Out

I'm drowsy, my head nodding. I love that feeling. I could wake myself and defend my life in an instant, thanks to a youth spent in a dojo, but drowsy is probably my favorite state of being. My belly is full of rice and my head is full of sake.

We've walked a long way this day, and I'm grateful we have come upon a kind soul who will put us up for the night in exchange for some labor in his fields in the morning. I hear his voice like a lullaby, deep and low, telling tales of love and adventure from his misspent youth. As I drift, I wonder if anyone's youth has not been misspent and whether any old man does not misremember both the best and the worst of his past. Mugen interrupts to compare stories of battle wounds, and Fuu sighs with obvious longing at the mention of romance.

As for me, I am young. I can boast of some adventure, but love? Not at all. I have neither desire enough to join in the discussion nor bravery enough to admit my failings. I raise my hooded gaze for a moment to see the sparkle in Fuu's eyes as she clasps her hands in wonder at the old man's mention of the beautiful maiden that got away. I cut over to Mugen, who is watching Fuu and licking his lips, no doubt in hopes that our sunflower girl will not provide fodder for a similar sad story in his future. Or perhaps he just wants another cup of sake so he'll care less this night.

He puts a hand to the side of his mouth and whispers to me. "Don't pass out. I'm gonna fuck you good tonight."

I nod, imperceptibly, and close my eyes again.


	12. That's Mugen's Little Devil

Author's Note: Citrus-taste had the prompt "to touch the devil." I couldn't resist.

That's Mugen's Little Devil

I see Jin leave the room, sliding the door closed as he goes. I've been up awhile, watching the sunrise, determined as ever but lonely too. Jin stretches and nods as he heads off, perhaps to relieve himself, maybe to find something to eat or drink Jin's always so quiet. But I know he'll be back, and that's what matters.

Mugen, by contrast, is not so quiet. Oddly, now, I hear him begin to speak. Now, when he is alone…or at least I think he is alone. I hear him call someone "naughty." I hear him moan. Then, "You crave my touch, don't you, little devil," he says. Someone else must have bedded with the two last night.

Images flood my mind as I try to swat them away:

Mugen's mouth between a whore's pale thighs, her head in Jin's lap.

Mugen sweating, thrusting into her.

Jin taking his turn next.

I whimper and squeeze my eyes shut tight until I see spots. Mugen's guttural, "Ohhhh yeahhh…" rouses me from my tortured imagination, and I jump up to peek through the crack of the door.

Inside, I see only Mugen, leaning against the far wall, fisting his erection as it spews over his bare flat belly and drips over his hand. "That's Mugen's little devil," he murmurs, and begins to lick his fingers clean.

I feel a sudden need to wash.


	13. You're Disgusting

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "Play House."

You're Disgusting.

As the full moon rose high on a cloudless night, the rumbling of the trio's empty bellies startled a few crows from their roost, their flapping and cawing rousing Fuu from a fitful half-slumber.

"It's too hard to sleep when I'm this hungry," she whined.

"Stop trying to fall asleep then, dummy," Mugen snapped.

Jin remained silent (except for the ongoing complaint of his stomach, which annoyed him no more or less than his bickering companions).

"But it's late and I should be sleeping," Fuu whined.

"Eat some more grass, then," Mugen replied, never one to know (thought Jin) when to just shut up.

Fuu, also a creature of more than necessary words (according to Jin's perspective), continued the non-conversation: "I think that's what's making me sickest of all."

"How about a beetle?" Mugen offered, grinning widely and holding up the wriggling stag he'd been toying with for the past half hour, letting it crawl up and down his arm and erecting little obstacles with twigs and leaves for it to walk over and under.

"You're disgusting," Fuu concluded with a grimace.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Mugen taunted, reaching a hand to squeeze his genitals.

Jin cleared his throat. Without shifting position nor even lifting his head, he spoke with quiet authority: "Why don't we play a game."

Fuu and Mugen cocked their heads simultaneously, looked at one another, and then at Jin. "A what?" Mugen spat.

"Oh yes," Fuu gushed. Her companions were generally sullen (Jin) or rude (Mugen), so a suggestion like this was most welcome! "What shall we play? What about a guessing game?"

Jin silenced her with a raise of his hand. "I'm thinking of a different game," he said, with strange seriousness. "Let's see who can be quiet the longest."

Mugen snorted.

Fuu pouted. "Hey, why don't we play house!"

"What?" Mugen barked.

Fuu clapped her hands. "Yes, yes! Like I'm the Mother and Jin, you be the Father…and…and what will Mugen be?"

Jin rolled his eyes, even as visions of holding Fuu in his arms as a cosy bedwarmer danced before him.

Mugen chuckled and crawled on all-fours over to Fuu and began to hike her kimono with his nose.

"Mugen! What are you doing?" squeaked Fuu, arms in the air as if she was being climbed by the beetle he'd been holding.

Jin's eyes widened.

Mugen continued to push upwards, sniffing and making soft little whining noises as he went, until Fuu's garment was high on her thighs. With the element of surprise in his favor, he quickly straddled her leg and began to hump.

Jin groaned. "Oh gods. He's the family dog."


	14. When the Control Freak Breaks,,,

Author's Note: Based on the prompt "One More Time" at LJ Comm Citrus_Taste.

When the Control Freak Breaks, He Breaks Hard

"Heh, when the control freak breaks," I say with a malicious grin, finger pointing in your face, "he breaks hard." The moment is a fucking triumph—and a triumph of fucking—and I'm gonna enjoy it. While you struggle to catch your breath, I wipe off my dick on your hakama then take another swig of sake. But I don't take my eyes off you. You're drenched with sweat. Your long hair's a stringy mess and your chest, face, and throat are splattered with cum. Blood wells in scratches and bite marks. And I bet your throat hurts like hell from all the yelling. You've called me every foul thing you can think of and then some while I've laughed, cock balls-deep in your tight bony ass. You've been well and truly fucked. It looks good on you.

As you lick your lips, I enjoy not offering you a drink. Then I think better of it. I fill my mouth with the cool, clear liquid that makes men more than they knew they could be, and lean into you. Your lips part. It's both sexy and disgusting, but you're mine. Just for this moment 'cause I made you finally drop your defenses. I grab you by the jaw and force your mouth open with mine, then spit the sake down your throat like my cock spit down it only a few minutes ago. You swallow now as you did then, and I don't stop kissing you until I get another tiny, strangled moan out of you. Jin, you bitch.

I've sucked you, fucked you, clawed you, bitten you, kicked you, kissed you, and fucked you some more. I've had every inch of you, every way I've wanted it. And you've taken it and cried out for more. I knew this was who you were, down deep. Always knew.

Suddenly, I feel like puking, so I drop off you and we both lay back in the grass, just breathing. We stay like that for what feels like a long time. Neither of us moving. Just looking up at the stars.

"Been six weeks since Fuu married that merchant kid," you murmur hoarsely, breaking the silence like the son of a self-pitying bitch you are.

"Shut the fuck up," I snarl, rising onto my knees again, fighting back nausea. I grab your balls and yank 'em up hard. You gasp and your head drops back. "Spread your fucking legs, samurai," I growl. "I'm gonna fuck you 'til neither of us remembers her fucking name."

You choke out a laugh then. But you spread.


	15. Don't Bust in on Me,,,

Author's Note: Mugen raps. That is both summary and warning. For **citrus_taste**'s "To Live Without is Death" prompt.

Don't Bust in on Me When My Dick is Gettin Licked

The name is Mugen, the life is vagrant  
The rhyme is kickin, the hotness flagrant

The women want me, all up in their kimono  
The titties haunt me, but do I want some ho? No!

Oh now and then, yes, I pay the price  
'Specially when, yes, the pussy is nice

And if you dis me, your ass'll get kicked  
Don't bust in on me when my dick is gettin licked

Yo, speakin of blowjobs, there's one that I covet,  
The girl's name is Fuu, and I know I'm gonna love it

Her mouth is tiny and her tits are shakin  
My mind is whirlin and my cock is achin

Sooner or later, babe, I'll cast my spell  
And if you try to snag the Fuu, I'll see your ass in hell!

Peace out.

Word to your Ka-chan.


	16. Enjoy the Show?

Author's Note: Fuu the voyeur for **citrus_taste**'s "Can't Stop Watching You" prompt. Third-person present tense perspective; not sure how well it works with a somewhat intrusive narrator...

Enjoy the Show?

Fuu's empty belly wakes her early. The sun is just thinking about rising. Mugen is snoring in a corner, sleeping in one of his usual bizarre positions, arms spread wide and legs splayed, one looking like it's trying to climb the wall of the broken-down shrine in which we took refuge from the overnight rain. Jin doesn't snore. Fuu looks to the corner where Jin was sitting when she went to sleep, but he's not there. Probably got up to pee.

She gets up, yawning, and wishes she had something to eat. Anything. And a bath. Maybe there are some berries or mushrooms out in the little forest behind the shrine? It's fresh now, cool and clean. Who knows, today could be the day when she learns something new about her father. Everyday could be the day.

Then she sees Jin. Not too far in the distance, stretching and lunging in slow motion. It's like dancing. Except that he's naked. Totally naked. She opens her mouth then closes it again. She turns toward the shrine and thinks about waking Mugen, but can't think of a good reason to do so. She turns back. Jin is balanced on one leg now, arms overhead, the sun rising behind him. His long black hair is wet and hangs down behind him. His body glistens; he must have bathed somewhere near already. Fuu swallows and approaches.

She crouches behind some bushes, close enough now to see that his eyes are closed. She hears his breathing, deep and even. He takes a warrior's pose, one knee bent, the other extended behind, arms forward then overhead. She didn't know Jin was beautiful until this moment.

When he arches his back, she can see his private parts. They dangle free, soft. They look vulnerable. Fuu has never looked at a man this way before. She turns away when they pee or when Mugen plays with himself at night, hand down his pants. She may be curious, but Mugen is not the type to ask questions of…not those kind of questions. And Jin never does what Mugen does in the night. At least she doesn't think he does.

After watching five or six poses, Jin stops and reaches down to pick up his clothes. Fuu startles and runs back to the shrine. How long was she watching? She's blushing head to toe even though she is certain Jin didn't see her. More than anything, she feels an overwhelming urge to thank him. But that's stupid.

Back at the shrine, Mugen is awake, scratching his ass with one hand and his scalp with the other. He grins. "Enjoy the show?" he asks with a wink.


	17. You Feel So Damn Good

Author's Note: Jin is content to be a Mugen/Fuu voyeur. Written for **citrus_taste**'s "Silken Threads of Fate" prompt.

You Feel So Damn Good

Spindly and spiderlike but strong and graceful in his way, Mugen silently slinks over to Fuu's prone body when they're both certain I'm asleep. I've become quite adept at feigning slumber, slowing and evening my breath in a practice gleaned from years of meditative practice and a predilection to voyeurism.

He shrugs smoothly out of his tunic and those strange short hakama as he crawls. Fuu's eyes flicker open at the sight of him nearing. She pulls away the rough blanket and fumbles with her obi to at last uncover her pale flesh, her plump breasts that Mugen wishes could fill his palms but are never complained of in the dark of their furtive embrace.

It would surprise Fuu to learn that Mugen does not give away their secrets, does not brag about how he has made Fuu his lover, claimed her virginity, and offers up whispered words of affection no one would imagine he had within him. "You feel so damn good." No, not expressions of love that naïve Fuu might prefer, but words earnest and warm. Fuu holds a small, hidden piece of Mugen, and it seems he dare not speak its name. In daylight, he may tease and scoff, but he thinks me ignorant of their shared pleasures, and my own pleasures are well satisfied in the silence between us.

Fuu, still so much more child than woman to my eye, is less tight-lipped than Mugen, though she keeps their secret from me, too. There was a time when her girlish attentions were focused upon me. If only she knew that my apparent rejection was merely a lack of words for the strange shape of my desires. I have taken both women and men to bed and will, no doubt, in future. But the imposition of touch is often more than I can bear, and bearing witness to the entangling of bodies and spirits of others, especially the opposite yet attracting forces of Mugen and Fuu, satisfies me far more readily.

As the angular Mugen climbs over Fuu's soft form under the moon's generous glow, I am privileged to watch and to know the greater truth of intimacy.

We are bound together, the three of us, sewn by fate's silken threads into a unique and precious design composed of need and balance and perfect proximity.


	18. Such a Hot Babe

Author's Note: Why doesn't Fuu wash her face? Written for **citrus_taste**'s "The sound of your breath on my cheek" prompt. For **Furousha** (xgrenade).

Such a Hot Babe

Jin brushes by me on the path and wrinkles his nose. I know I don't smell good. Come on, none of us do. We haven't passed a river or even a stream in days, and the last village actually charged money to use their pond! Money that we, of course, don't have.

But I wouldn't have washed anyway. Or at least not my face. I know it's stupid, and I blush so hot when I think about it that you ask me if I'm coming down with some sickness, Mugen. No way am I going to confess, "I'm totally in love with you, Mugen!" I can't imagine what I'd say, even if I wanted to. "Wild man and thief! Illiterate pervert! Make me yours, now and forever!" It's laughable.

Still, last night in your sleep you rolled toward me, threw your arm across my chest, and let it lie there. I was awake already and didn't move. The weight and warmth made my nipples tingle through my kimono. Oh, Mugen. You murmured "Such a hot babe" against my cheek, and I gasped. You were probably dreaming of some girl from your past, or maybe just some prostitute from some forgotten village. But I don't care. You said it to me, even if you didn't mean it.

I may not ever wash my cheek again.


	19. Overcompensation

Author's Note: Originally written for LJ Community **SamChamJam**'s prompt "Show Me What You Got" with 250 word limit.I tried to get a little of the structure of the anime into the ficlet—the sudden flashback and return thing—by using italics.

Overcompensation

Fuu groaned audibly. Mugen's yelling had given her a headache and she was already overtired and underfed. Jin was sullen, refusing to budge. All she wanted was to get to the next village and fill her belly and rest in a nice warm room and then get back on the road to find the samurai who smelled of sunflowers. But this farce was going to happen and the only way to avoid it was to leave them both behind. Grimacing and nodding her assent, she wondered how she had gotten herself into this newest form of torture.

_Mugen: You seriously expect me _not_ to kill the idiot here and now when he insulted me like that, girly?  
Jin: The truth is no insult.  
Mugen: You called me dickless!  
Jin: Hnn.  
Mugen: I'm huge, ya toothpick! Now take it back before I slice ya in two!  
Jin: Hnn._

Ah yes, that was how.

The only way to solve the stand-off so they could get moving again was for Fuu to give in to their demand—well, Mugen's demand and Jin's refusal to let the subject drop. "All right," she shouted. "One, two, three!" and both men let their hakama drop.

Fuu's eyes widened. She covered her mouth, pointing from one groin to the other and back.

"Go on, girly, tell us. Who's bigger?" demanded Mugen, hands on hips.

Jin gave an arrogant smirk.

Fuu turned and began to walk away, shaking her head. "No wonder you both carry such big swords."


	20. Righteous Fuu Out

**Author's Note: **Crossposted to LJ Comms **SamChamJam** (for the "Temper, Temper" prompt) and **Citrus_taste** for the "Because it is my name" prompt.

**Warning:** Absurd mockery of screenwriting style. Damn you FFnet for not allowing me to format this like a screenplay!!! I've used italics since I have no control over spacing between lines. Hope it's not too confusing. Visit LJ user "oishii_fic" to read it more as it's meant to look.

Righteous Fuu Out

INT. DINGY SAKE BAR - NIGHT

_Background music begins as Fuu, Mugen, and Jin drink to drown their sorrows after having been mugged in scene 3. They are the only customers and the owner snores against a wall, leaning on a broom. Jin sits, hand loosely around his cup. Fuu drinks copiously, clearly having adapted to alcohol since the original series ended. Mugen leers, watching her with admiration. Fuu takes it for sexual attraction. The dialogue that ensues has obviously happened at least a thousand times before._

FUU [slurring]

Quit staring at me, you pervert. I know you can't keep your eyes off me but I'm not gonna put out and that's that.

MUGEN [slurring more]

Idiot. Who'd wanna look at some flatchested kid with—

FUU [pointing, Aretha Franklin style and climbing clumsily onto the table, then giving what she certainly thinks is a sexy hip bump]

You, that's who.

_Music rises, hiphop style with a fast, heavy beat. Fuu's head bobs, then her shoulders shimmy, mostly in rhythm._

FUU [rapping like a pro]

My name is Fuu and I know you want me

It's clear enough by the way you taunt me

The way your eyes flash, they thrill and haunt me

_CUT to Jin, who adjusts his glasses and quirks an eyebrow._

FUU

Go on deny it the truth is clear boy

You love my body you want me near boy

The hottest girl in Japan is here boy

_CUT to Mugen, whose jaw drops. Fuu begins to strut around the table as if she has a large and hungry audience adoring her._

FUU

I don't put out and you wish I would yo

You'd take me now if you only could yo

Admit you love me I think you should yo

_CUT to the owner, whose broom slips from under him. He hits the floor, still asleep._

FUU

So give it up cuz the time is right yeah

You want your Fuu with you ev'ry night yeah

Deny it no I'm the hottest sight yeah

_Mugen swigs and watches, spellbound. Jin grunts._

FUU

And if you don't I've a plan in mind fool

I'll do Jin first cuz he's just my kind fool

I'll put your shorts in an awful bind fool

_Jin's eyes widen. He and Mugen exchange lascivious glances, nod, and rise in tandem. Fuu winks and aims her fingers, gunlike at them._

FUU

Righteous Fuu out.

_Music stops. Fuu leaps off the table into Mugen's arms. He catches her, licks his lips, and leans in to kiss her. She is out cold. Jin shakes his head and leaves. The camera follows him._

MUGEN [voice growing quieter as his rant goes on and Fuu's rap track starts up again, more quietly]

I ain't carrying her. Hey, Jin, get back here! You carry her this time, dammit! Why the hell didn't we leave her when we had the chance? I'm gonna drop her and leave her for someone to kidnap! Damnit Jin! [continues in ad lib]

_BLACKOUT._


	21. More Like Honey Than Plums

**Author's Note: **Written for LJ Comm **Citrus_Taste**'s "Intoxicated With Your Taste" prompt. Adults only, yo.

More Like Honey Than Plums

Mugen rolled his bloodshot eyes and pointed his finger in Jin's face dismissively. "Ah, shaddap, ya louse. It's nothin' like that." The candlelight danced in his dilated pupils while the shopowner snored in a corner.

"Stop waving that around or I'll cut it off," Jin replied flatly. Mugen got like this every time he got drunk, which was every time they had coin enough for drink, and even sometimes when they hadn't. Belligerent, loud, demonstrative, and loud.

Fuu had fled the dilapidated little eatery when he'd tried to stick his hand down her kimono to prove she wasn't a boy. Jin was inclined to follow, but his single cup of sake had left him too mellow to move unless absolutely necessary.

Mugen patted Jin's face in a mockery of consolation that was enough like a slap to bring a reluctant Jin to his feet in a flash, the vagrant's arm twisted behind his back and his face up against the wall.

"At least yer not all talk and no action," Mugen slurred with a chuckle, pushing his hips back into Jin's groin.

Jin let go his hold with a groan and sat back down at the table.

Mugen shrugged and let himself slump down the wall, flopping onto his ass. "'Anyway, it's not like what you said," he jeered, retrieving the conversation that should have died before it began. "'S'more like honey than plums."

Jin grunted. "Honey's thicker. And sweeter."

The two were silent for long moments, eyes closed and bodies still.

Mugen startled awake again. "You sayin' it ain't sweet?" he growled.

Jin blinked, head drooping. "I'm saying…" What was he saying? "It's…more like fruit…or flowers…."

Mugen roused, pointing again from the floor. "Well, I'm sayin'…" What was he saying? "I'm sayin' yer fulla shit."

Jin didn't answer, slumping over his empty cup.

Mugen was on to something. "I'm right, ain't I? Ya never did taste Fuu's pussy. Yer just makin' it up."

"If you did, I did," mumbled Jin.

"I'm gonna ask her if ya did," vowed Mugen, arm dropping, eyes closing.

"Plums," murmured Jin, letting his head drop into his arms.

"Honey," muttered Mugen, and at last passed out.


	22. Brothel Sonnet

Author's Note: Originally written for **SamChamJam**'s "Rain" prompt. Shakespeare apparently wrote a sonnet about Episode 11. Who knew. I'm rather proud of this little tidbit. ^_^

Brothel Sonnet

In a diary of questionable veracity, a young boy who claims to have been enjoying the sexual favors of one "scribbler" named William Shakespeare tells of an evening they spent in a hay loft when suddenly appeared a poor traveler from the East. For a meager meal, he told of his life as a servant in a small-town brothel where he met a shy yet brave young ronin who rescued a beautiful woman, once a quiet housewife but sold into prostitution for her husband's gambling debts. Scholars currently surmise that the Bard was inspired by the tale to write the following recently discovered sonnet, an obviously early effort, noteworthy perhaps most for its altered ending. Where the ronin in the wanderer's version of the tale left her to gain her divorce, Shakespeare's poetic adaptation has her abandon her rescuer, perhaps reflecting the bard's attitude toward women at that time.

Upon a bridge I met a lady fair,  
'Twas raining as I led her swift away.  
She had such sadness she did heavy wear,  
I could read within her life's dismay.  
Again we met as rain fell hard and long,  
She brought her skills to make a day go by.  
I was a poorly chef but she was strong,  
And in our duties shared the time did fly.  
When next my lady met my eager gaze,  
'Twas in a place that sold her goods for gold.  
Her suff'ring bravely born did me amaze,  
I paid to rent her love; she'd not be sold.  
At last at sword's keen point I set her free,  
But freedom led her far away from me.


	23. Another Toll to Pay

Author's Note: A little tidbit of drunk!Mugen and his drunk!plan. For Furousha, the Mu to my Jin.

Another Toll to Pay

The low moon cast long shadows along the beams of the ruins of the temple that the trio of travelers was using for shelter. Mugen crouched in the doorway, awaiting his prey. Soon Fuu would come, back from her job doing dishes in the tea shop in this crummy village where they were stuck until they had enough money to buy passage across the river. There was always another crummy village, another toll to pay. They'd probably never find that stupid sunflower samurai, so he'd decided it was time to charge a little fee of his own for ongoing yojimbo services rendered. He knocked back the rest of the sake he'd stolen earlier that night as at last he heard the sound of soft footsteps approaching. He chuckled low as a lengthy silhouette stretched around the corner. Fuu's hair was down…or was that her kimono? He cocked his head and wrinkled his brow, eyes a bit bleary from the cheap drink, then, as she at last came within reach, he leapt, pinning her beneath him as he forced his mouth upon hers.

He awoke the next morning face down in the mud, wrists tied behind his back. His head throbbed like a brass gong. He writhed and growled for release.

Fuu came out of the dilapidated shelter, yawning. "He think you were me again?" she asked Jin as she scratched her head.

From beside her, Jin grunted an affirmative.


End file.
